Lose Yourself
by Soul-Killer of the Stars
Summary: You gotta lose yourself in the music, the moment...you better never let it go oh...:d sequel to El Manana! boos REVIEW PLEASE! I'm outta herre..jus read it..puhlease.


**Lose Yourself: Sequel to El Manana**

**another Gorillaz fanfic by Aelgifu**

**probably don't care but this is about a certain time in a certain place regarding certain people and certain events**

AN: If you're readin' this mostly likely you know what the prequel El Manana was about. It was obviously the worst fanfic ever written, but people seemed to think it wasn't done so here's a sequel for ya to read in a time of boredom. REVIEW por favor if you feel like it that is.

_Disclaimer: _Aelgifu aka A Walking Monster does NOT own the Gorillaz. They're copyright the Gorillaz partnership & all that special stuff.

Russell looked inquistively at the box. It was addressed to a Mr. Murdoc Niccals at Kong Studios in Essex. He knew the said addressee was swearing in his Winnebago, loathing Russell heavily, pressing a blood-stained cloth to his badly broken nose.

So Russell thought he'd open the package himself…but before he had the chance it literally burst open & out popped a little whirlwind.

The whirlwind screeched a string of gibberish to him. He was scared so bad by the thing that he ran screaming to D's room. The singer was sobbing on his bed, still distraught by Paula's betrayal.

"D!" Russell bellowed.

"Whuh?" came the soft voice. "summink a-matter?"

"DUH SUMTHIN'S A-MATTER! THERES AN INSANE THING RUNNING AROUND THE STUDIOS YELLING GIBBERISH! IT HAS A LES PAUL WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS!" (**AN: **in my currently disturbed & depressed state of mind I forgot to mention the whirlwind was carrying a trendy Les Paul guitar)

"WHAT THE FUCK'S GOIN ON OUT HERE?" I bet you already know who this was. Yes, the Niccals himself had appeared now, irritated further by the commotion. He was quite clearly in pain.

"Summink's out there!" 2D yelped, finally catching wind of the speeding tornado.

Suddenly….it all stopped. Everything. It was as though time itself had come to an end, just in that one moment when the thing began to play the Les Paul.

Murdoc was appalled. He figured out that this thing was a little girl, yet she played that guitar like an old pro. He forgot all about the pain in his nose and lost himself in the song.

_6 Years earlier …_

That moring Hannibal told him something was going to happen. Muds' older brother had a strange way of sensing things that always came true, so the younger prepared himself for whatever was coming.

But there was no way he ever could have. What happened that fateful day would change the bassist's life forever. It would make him the haunted, angry man he was today.

Later that afternoon the boys were going to the 711 to, _of course_, buy cigarettes. As they strolled down the sidewalk they noticed somoene tear out of the alley way. He looked like their father, in a cape & top hat. Muds could hear his brother's heart racing beside him. Abruptly, the figure threw himself onto the road, smiling in a sick manner as a delivery van came racing towards him. It couldn't stop in time and-** "DADDY!"**

_2D's memories: _

The song the girl played made him think. Little did he know how far away his other bandmates were from him, for soon the singer drifted back to a small town called Crawley, losing himself in the music too.

"Stu-pot honey are you ready for school?" the sweet familiar voice of his Mum echoed up the stairs.

"Yes'm," he murmured in reply. A small 2D clambered down the stairs, non-black eyes taking in the world around him.

His Mum smiled. "You're a good boy. Come, now." With that she took her son by the hand, called goodbye to her husband, and shut the door.

Stu-Pot had always loved walking to school with Mommy. At only 7 he found it to be one of the greatest things in the world.

But ah, his fellow peers thought differently. The minute she left a sixth year boy grabbed him by the neck. Five others grouped round behind him. The one clinching his neck laughed horribly, and the last thing Stu-Pot remembered was a dirty fist coming towards his face.

_Russell's Memories_

It was the most peaceful and languid thing he'd ever listened to. This girl had more talent than one could ever dream about, but he was dreaming right now. The music took him to Brooklyn, on a night he wanted to forget about, yet could never seem to shake off.

A young Russell stood over the limp body of his best friend. He looked around him. There they lay, four of his only chums, dead. Killed in a drive by shooting courtesy of trigger-happy gangsters.

"Del," Russell whispered. Del. His amazingly skilled rapper-friend was gone. Never to rap again, never to have his own record label or clothing line. They were all gone. Or were they?

_Russ_! came a series of voice inside his head.

"**_Guys!"_**

"NOODLE!" a voice _not_ inside his head declared. Russell's eyes jerked open and he was jarred to the present. The girl was looking right at him. She had small Asian eyes and short dark hair, her Les Paul lying gently on the ground. "Noodle!" she said again.

"Noodle?" 2D inquired. "That your name?"

"Noodle!"

"You're Noodle then. You will be the guitarist of my band, even though you're just a kid. Do you except my proposal!" Murdoc boomed, annoyed by the painful memories her playing had cost him but so delighted at the skill he couldn't help but smile.

"Noodle!" Noodle went off in Japanese, doing her best to convey her thoughts about becoming the guitarist of Gorillaz.

"Right-o. Come with us to the kitchen, kid, and we'll talk a deal!" The old bassist chuckled to himself, realising by the blank looks in his drummer & singer's eyes that they'd lost themselves in the music too.

_You better lose yourself in the music, the moment_

_You better never let it go-oh …._

Done! Me knows this is short, but 'm tired, y'know. Eh. REVIEW NOW YOUNG CHILDREN! Sorry, just in a bad mood. What I meant was, uh please review. Yeah. Buhbye!


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